The comfort of the drug takes me under.
My eyes are red and blistered.
This pounding in my chest feels like thunder,
And makes me shiver,
In my bones I surrender.
I need to shake this sickness.

Everyday I grow weaker.
I don't know if I'll live to tell the tale.
No one may care anyway.
Still I must make it through this fatal fever,
Before I can deliver the truth to the sinners.
I must make it through this deadly winter.